


Life on the Outside of Your Skin

by Siria



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Challenge: Porn Battle V, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-01-18
Updated: 2008-01-18
Packaged: 2017-10-03 20:17:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Siria/pseuds/Siria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The shield malfunctions on a Tuesday.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Life on the Outside of Your Skin

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Porn Battle V.

The shield malfunctions on a Tuesday. One of the new arrivals with a particularly strong expression of the ATA gene triggers something in the lower city, putting the gate off-line and wrapping Atlantis in a force-field that spits amber and dangerous if you get too close to it. It makes Dr McKay curse with such fluency that the first time Jennifer hears him, ranting at Colonel Sheppard while the two of them run down the corridor that leads to the gate room, her eyebrows rise to meet her hairline.

It's language she has to get used to.

The shield is being powered from a kind of feedback loop with the ZPM (_yes, yes, grossly simplify the matter, Sheppard, but I—well, yes, I suppose you can say that_) which could well last for millennia. McKay says he can fix it, once he figures out how to implement his work-around; but while he spends his days hyped up on coffee in the labs with Zelenka and Colonel Carter, the city is building up to a case of full-grown cabin fever.

They're not just cut off from Earth this time, a place some of them still think of as home, or from a galaxy of worlds Jennifer hadn't realised they'd, she'd, grown so much a part of; they're cut off from the planet itself, the shield refracting the sky to an amber glow and making the water burn a brighter blue. It's like being trapped in a city no-one knows, and for all that Atlantis is the size of Manhattan, there's no getting away from the strangeness of the sky, the same faces around every corner.

Jennifer spends most of the week it takes the scientists to jury-rig a solution in Ronon's quarters. She's restless and Ronon's worse. Without battles to fight or blood to staunch, neither of them are of any use now to anyone but each other; neither of them can do anything but use tongue and teeth and the press of hands to take themselves out of heated skin that's tight with the feeling of being _trapped, trapped, trapped._

On top of her, Ronon is a welcome weight, big hands touching her so gently while he moves. She whispers to him, tells him what she likes and wants, how good he feels, and delights in the way he looks oddly shy when he smiles. She touches a hand to his face, his chest, rocks with him in a rhythm that leaves her breathless before she comes; later, afterwards, he curls around her, resting his head on the cradle of her hips as he sleeps. Jennifer had never thought she would find this here.

She takes time off from the infirmary, using the leave she's stored up since she got here in anticipation of nothing like this; Marie's voice over the comm is wry and knowing and says "Radio only if they're flat-lining, huh?" Ronon leans over Jennifer's shoulder to kiss the blush from her cheek.

When he takes her back to bed this time, he stretches out on his back and takes her hands in his as she straddles him. She's a little self-conscious, a little uncertain; she's not had sex like this since she was nineteen and in college, giggly on cheap beer and puppy love, and the way he can see all of her now makes her want to hide.

But Ronon reaches up, brushes her lower lip with the pad of one callused thumb and says "Hey." He looks so softly, unconsciously happy that Jennifer can't help but grin at him.

"Hey, you," she says, moving herself up and onto him. Ronon's big and thick inside her; it makes her ache every time, and she tightens around him, wanting more of it; she loves the way it makes him groan. He uses one hand to steady her, the other to bring her off twice, shuddering; by the third time, she's so limp with pleasure he has to wrap his hands around her hips, moving her on him slow and steady until her back arches, bow-string tight, and she comes with a choked-off scream, moving her until he bucks and comes hard inside her.

Near midnight, she wakes to hear Ronon talking softly with someone over his headset. "Wha's'it?" she mumbles, "Wrong?"

"No." Ronon lies down again. "McKay got it. Be fixed by the morning. Sleep."

"'kay," Jennifer says, with the pliancy of those who have been sleeping, safe and beyond all barriers, burying her face in his hair as she drifts off again; and when she opens her eyes again, looks over Ronon's sleeping shoulder to the window outside, the sky is shading from amber to the bright blue of new beginnings


End file.
